Scenes: Love After Apocalypse
by Parched Dreamer
Summary: Love goes on. Even if the sky has fallen. Post-apocalyptic one-shot series featuring multiple senshi pairings. AU.
1. Shelter

**A/N: **I do not own Sailor Moon or any of its characters. I simply kidnap them for my nefarious schemes and hope Naoko doesn't notice.

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**Shelter**

Heavy raindrops drummed against the shaft door, which was located on the ceiling. A lone light bulb dangled 2 feet away from said exit, dispelling the darkness just enough in the closet-sized kitchen. The only other source of light came from the ghostly blue flames of the gas burner, on which sat a billy can full of potato soup.

Ami stood behind the burner, staring at the creamy bubbles crowding about the billy can's rim. She stirred the soup once with a spoon, decided it was good to eat, and turned the gas off. The rich smell of the soup made her salivate instantly. She wanted to eat it straight from the can right then and there, but she reminded herself that she had made it for Makoto. Besides, the pantry was nowhere close to being empty. She figured the gods had been feeling particularly generous on the day she and Makoto stumbled upon this underground shelter.

Taking care not to burn herself, Ami ladled the soup into a bowl and then carried it to the other room.

"Mako," Ami called out softly as she pushed past the door. "I brought you something."

The room was just as dimly lit as it was in the kitchen, but Ami could still make out the pained expression on her lover's face. Makoto lay on a cot, her left side thickly bandaged. With a grunt, she lifted her head and grinned at Ami. "Hello beautiful."

Ignoring the comment, Ami pulled up a chair and placed the bowl carefully on the small table to her right. Sitting down, she laid a hand over Makoto's forehead. "You're no longer feverish," she said, pulling away. "How's your side?"

Makoto scooted to prop her back against the wall, wincing as she did so. "Still throbs a little, but it's gotten a lot better. I gotta hand it to you—you did one hell of a job patching me up." Her grin fell when she caught the solemn look in Ami's eyes. "You…you still mad at me?"

Ami didn't say anything. She looked away from Makoto and fixed her eyes on the wound. She clasped her hands together, one thumb tracing circles over the other. "A little," she finally replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Makoto pursed her lips, and then began rubbing her shoulder. Ami kept her gaze down, away from Makoto's face. She could feel the taller woman's eyes flitting about the room. No, Ami thought to herself, she could no longer afford to be angry. Makoto had only done what she believed the situation had called for, and Ami knew she had to accept that. But Ami had also learned long ago that belief alone did not guarantee survival. Not when there was so much danger lying in wait out there. She had tried many times to remind her lover of this stark truth, but Makoto, with that cheeky grin on her lips and mischievous glimmer in her eyes, replaced those warnings with the assurance that she could 'handle any god damn mutant or bandit that came her way'.

Ami sighed internally. Makoto could be so damn stubborn sometimes.

Outside, the sky cracked and roared, sending down rumbles that shook the bunker walls. The ceiling light droned off, only to flicker back on again.

The silence in the room was beginning to weigh down on Ami. She made to stand up and leave, but stopped when she felt a calloused hand latch onto her wrist.

"I'm sorry," Makoto said, her beautiful green eyes heavy with the kind of sadness that belong to a guilty child's face. Ami felt her eyes moisten, but steeled herself for Makoto's sake.

"I couldn't forgive that bastard for…saying such things to you," the taller woman continued. "I've never been that angry before. At anyone. Ever."

Ami settled back into her seat. She placed a hand over Makoto's, the same one that held on to her.

"I know I shouldn't have let him get to me, but the mere thought of you…being tortured like that…Christ…I just lost it."

"Mako," Ami cut in. "We were outnumbered by 4. It was a miracle we escaped with our lives."

"I know. And I'm sorr—"

"No, stop apologizing to me," Ami retorted, perhaps a little more sharply than she had intended. She felt her lover tense up. The smaller woman heaved a sigh. "I just worry about you," she resumed, squeezing Makoto's hand. "If anything…if anything happened to you…just…how do you expect me to go on living?"

"Ami…"

"I know that you do it to protect me. But Mako, you know I can fend for myself. And…and it's a crazy world out there with even crazier people, and if you don't exercise more caution, I just might…I just might end up losing you for good."

Ami dropped her head onto Makoto's shoulder. "You know how scared I was when that scavenger stabbed you?" She looked up. Makoto wore a clouded look, one that made Ami wonder briefly if her words had struck a wrong chord in the taller woman.

But Makoto did not protest. Her lips curved into a small, gloomy smile and she raised her hand to gently massage the back of Ami's neck. "I'm an idiot, aren't I…"

Ami shook her head. "No Mako. I didn't mean it that way. I just want you to be safe, that's all."

"I know," Makoto whispered as she raised Ami's hand to her mouth. She kissed her palm. "I know." She continued to plant slow, gentle kisses over Ami's bruised knuckles.

Withdrawing her hand from Makoto's grasp, Ami buried herself into her lover's arms.

"I love you," Makoto spoke into Ami's ear.

"I love you too," Ami replied and kissed Makoto lightly on the lips. She rested her forehead against the taller woman's, savoring the warmth of her touch.

"Your soup's getting cold."

"Screw it," Makoto mumbled, pulling Ami onto her lap. "You're all I need right now."

Ami tapped a finger against Makoto's nose. "You still need to eat. Doctor's orde—"

That was all she could manage before Makoto claimed her lips in a hungry kiss.

They held each other as the storm raged above them. The light bulb was nearing its life span. The walls were creaking. The desolate expanses beyond the shaft door held no promise of tomorrow. But none of it mattered tonight. They were both alive and together.

And that was enough.


	2. Warmth

**Warmth**

The fire hadn't been the greatest of ideas. Rei knew it would attract attention, especially from the Stalkers, those faceless, screeching beings that stole through the decrepit city at night. Though her Third Stream didn't pick up any sign of those creatures, the danger of marauders approaching the fire still remained. They were cold, ruthless, perhaps even more so than the monsters. Rapists. Looters. Killers. All united under one banner.

But Minako had reasoned and insisted. And in the end, Rei knew her partner was right. Freezing to death was by no means a better alternative.

Hands above the low fire, Rei sent a jolt of energy through her palms. Instantly, the fire doubled in size, bathing its surroundings in an orange glow. But Rei felt far from warm. Minako's prolonged absence was beginning to worry her.

Rei never doubted Minako's ability to hold her own in a fight. Time and again, her partner had proven her mettle in ways that left Rei bewildered and even a little frightened. She could never forget the day of Minako's first kill. The sight of her standing over a decapitated marauder with blood streaking down her face, and her blue eyes wide and unseeing still haunted Rei in her dreams. Granted, Rei would have been killed if Minako hadn't intervened, but seeing her partner in such a state had left Rei wondering if Minako actually enjoyed slaughter.

But Rei knew Minako. Too well, perhaps, but well enough to see that she had no choice but to kill. Her frenzied eyes would always draw back into a weary look that one can only wear after having been to hell and back. It was an expression that Rei had seen on her own face many times. But as much as Rei wanted to empathize with Minako, she couldn't help being annoyed about the way her partner went about things.

Minako smiled a lot. She smiled too much. Just what in hell was there that made her so damn happy? Rei had snapped at her, told her to wipe that stupid grin off her face, but Minako only rolled her eyes and carried her smile everywhere. Enemies on the road, shortening food supplies, no clear direction to safety; the whole slew of it, constantly dumped on them like garbage. Yet through it all, her smile had persevered.

And so had they.

Rei pulled her knees to her chin. She gazed at the dancing flames in front of her, wondering why it was so easy for Minako. Of course she was a strong person. She was probably stronger than Rei would ever be. But how could anyone simply greet life and all of its grim revelations with a sassy quirk of the lips? Even grit had its limits, especially in a world where reason and morality ceased to exist altogether.

It was easy to label Minako as a hopeless idealist. But Rei knew even that wasn't true. All she needed was to look into those blue eyes to be reaffirmed of everything that her partner felt from their ordeals.

Rei threw more kindling into the fire. Her senses registered movement within 200 feet away from her, but she remained seated. She felt an all too familiar aura, one that she had missed, though she would never admit it.

There was a rustle, followed by a patter of footsteps. Suddenly, two cold hands wrapped around Rei's eyes.

"Guess who's back?" a sugary voice crooned over Rei's head.

"Gee," Rei snorted. "I have no idea."

Minako giggled. She slid her hands away and took a seat next to Rei.

"Find anything?" Rei asked, keeping her eyes on the fire.

"Nothing special," Minako replied, running a hand through her blonde hair. "Two boxes of saltines, some teabags, a thing of beef jerky. I also found a Blockbuster but no one was at the front desk." She laughed. "Sorry. Dumb joke."

Rei shook her head. "To think I would've gotten used to it by now."

Minako poked her partner in the cheek. "You're such a grump." She reached for her rucksack and began rummaging through it. "How 'bout some tea? I'm sure it will make you feel better."

Rei grumbled and rubbed the pink spot on her cheek (courtesy of Minako's finger), but accepted her partner's offer. They were fortunate enough to have found a few unopened bottles of Poland Spring the other night, one of which Minako emptied into a dented billy can she had set over the fire. An entire bottle of water was a lot to part with, but both women longed for something warm and soothing. They had spent the whole day trekking through ruins and broken streets after all.

The tea was quickly brewed, then poured into porcelain teacups that Minako had pulled out from her rucksack.

"Where'd you get these?" Rei asked, tracing her finger along the rim of one of the cups.

"Mom got me a tea set for my birthday," Minako replied. "Those two were the only ones I could save after…" her eyes darkened "…you know…all this happened."

Rei looked at Minako. Again, that smile. That same, reassuring smile below those melancholy blue eyes. A study in contradiction. Rei suddenly had to fight the urge to embrace Minako and hold her tightly. The fire crackled and popped.

"I hope the others made it out," Minako said.

Rei placed her cup by her feet. "They're alive. I can still sense them."

"Really? All of them?"

"Yes."

Minako turned to the fire. "That's good to hear. It's nice to hope for something once in a while."

"I thought you've been hoping all this time."

Minako shook her head. "I'd like to, Rei. I thought this was simply another mission for us. Get from point A to point B. Survive. Move on. But it's not so simple after all. Everything is so spread out and instant. It's like we own everything and lose everything at the same time." She paused. "I want to make sense of it all, I really do. But what right do I have to the truth when I'm just as stained as everything around me?"

Rei saw the sadness emerge from the blue wells of Minako's eyes. "Whenever I think about that boy, I can't sleep. He didn't deserve it."

"Mina," Rei cut in. "Weren't you the one who said that survival is priority? That even a moment's hesitation can end both of our lives? Don't tell me you're getting sentimental."

Rei instantly regretted her words. Minako hung her head, her hands wrapped around her cup of tea. "You're right. I must be losing my touch." She looked up and smiled sadly, "Thanks for reminding me."

Rei would have preferred if Minako had lashed out, shot back at her with something acerbic. She couldn't bear the look her partner was giving her. It cut into her deeply, like a jagged sword.

"I…I didn't mean it that way," Rei muttered.

"…I know."

They were silent.

Suddenly, Minako sneezed.

"Whoo! Thank God for the fire!" she chimed, all trace of sadness gone from her voice.

Without saying anything, Rei held open the blanket that she had wrapped around herself. Minako raised her eyebrow, an unspoken question playing across her lips.

"Don't get any ideas," Rei warned. "Sharing body warmth is a survival tactic too."

Minako giggled. "I didn't say anything." She scooted closer to Rei, wrapped an arm around her waist, and placed her head on her shoulder.

"Don't get too comfortable," Rei said.

"Oh, hush. You like it," Minako replied.


	3. Hope

**Warning: Graphic content with possible triggers.**

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**Hope**

The sun bled crimson on the jagged slopes as it dipped into the horizon. Below the sky, ash hung in the air, which was thick with the smell of blood. The ground was covered in dust so thick and heavy it swallowed your ankles like quicksand. Jutting from this spread of ruined earth were the remains of a family. Mother and father were stripped naked, their torsos ravaged with lacerations. Their young daughter laid face down a few yards away. When Haruka turned her over, she found herself looking into a pair of eyes as blue as her own. Her mouth was agape, frozen wide into a silent scream. She couldn't have been more than 12.

Michiru stood by, a hand on Haruka's shoulder. "There's nothing we can do for them."

Haruka heaved a sigh. She swallowed the growing lump in her throat and stood. The combined stench of ash, dust, and blood was making her nauseous, but that was nothing compared to the racing thoughts in her head. She could only wonder what the girl's last moments had held, what horrible sights had been burned into her eyes as she struggled against her killers. The deep bruises on her arms; the ragged cuts zigzagging down her bare stomach; the hideous bite marks tattooing her neck and undeveloped breasts. Haruka balled her hands until she felt her nails digging into skin. It was all she could do to keep herself from screaming. "We shouldn't linger here." She heard Michiru, but her lover's voice seemed like a distant call in her ears.

"It had to be them." Haruka's shoulders quaked as she spoke through clenched teeth. "Those bastards. Those sick fucking bastards. "

Michiru gave no reply. She wrapped her arms around Haruka and felt the shudders wracking her body. "I will kill them. I will kill them all," she kept muttering, her boyish features creased with tortured rage.

Ash continued to fall from the sky, which had turned a bleak shade of purple. The lifeless eyes of the child stared at the two women as if to plead for help. Dust had gathered around her cheeks and mouth, which worsened her pallid appearance. In another life, she would have grown into a beautiful woman.

"We have to get going, Haruka." Michiru's voice was soft and even, a dash above a whisper. But Haruka saw that her eyes were downcast. Aquamarine bangs covered the trembling tears that brimmed in her eyes. Flecks of ash had settled onto her head and shoulders, and the shadow on her face seemed to deepen with the sky. Her anger no more, Haruka brushed the ash off of Michiru and held her tightly to her chest.

The shriek of bats trilled from the east.

"Alright. I'm just gonna check…to make sure..." Haruka's voice fell mid-sentence, her words feeling as if they were being forced through a pinpoint. Michiru raised her head. Sorrow remained in the deep wells of her eyes, stagnant but encapsulating like darkness. She nodded once and loosened herself from Haruka's embrace. "Don't take too long," was all she could say.

The family had been travelling in a van, its burgundy exterior eaten away by rust. Its double doors were bent and hanging from the hinges. Upon sticking her head through the opening, Haruka cringed at the gangrenous stench that seemed to arise from the worn leather seats. Holding a hand over her nose and mouth, she bent her way inside, just enough to catch a glimpse of a dirty bundle, lodged unceremoniously amidst cardboard boxes and plastic bags, in the back of the van. She crept further to the bundle and saw that it rose and fell. It was an infant girl. Haruka gathered the bundle in her arms and stepped out of the derelict vehicle.

She had ivory skin and dark violet hair, and her eyes were locked in gentle slumber. Haruka couldn't help but smile at the delicate sight. "I got you kid. You're gonna be alright." She stirred but didn't awake. With a thumb, Haruka brushed off what little black flakes had landed on the infant's plump cheeks.

When Michiru saw what Haruka held in her arms, she fixed an incredulous look on her lover's face. Haruka returned the look with an expression that stamped out whatever rebuke was about to spill forth from Michiru's lips. Even so, the smaller woman shook her head. "You know she can't come with us."

"Actually, I don't," came the terse reply.

"Haruka."

"No. We're taking her away from here and that's the end of it."

Michiru pursed her lips, her gaze unwavering against Haruka's. A moment of silence, interrupted only by the shrieking bats, fell between them.

"She won't survive," Michiru said finally.

"Don't jump to conclusions just yet," Haruka shot back. "Do you have so little faith in us as to think that we can't even protect a baby?"

Michiru narrowed her eyes. "That is not what I meant."

"Either way she's coming with us, and that's the end of it."

Michiru sighed. The things she wanted to say, in their suppression, had clumped into a burning mass in her throat. She wanted desperately for Haruka to understand their situation yet something, a tightening in her gut, an emotion that struck her with the sharpness of a whetted knife, which only grew and intensified upon looking into the infant's sleeping face, killed whatever desire she had left to pursue the ill-fated debate.

She placed her hands on the grime-covered cheeks of her lover. The muscles around her jaws had hardened like knobs of burnt rope. "I suppose there's no arguing with that tone," the smaller woman said.

"You're goddamn right," was Haruka's gruff reply. Her eyes however, had softened considerably.

Michiru chuckled. "You're cute when you're being hardheaded."

Haruka snorted, but with no contempt. "Whatever. Let's get back to the truck. I'm getting sick from just standing here."

Darkness had descended upon the earth when the two women were back on the road. The truck rumbled forth, its headlights dim, but pulsing against the thickness of the unknown. Like fireflies in a storm cloud.


End file.
